Beetle-creepers and butterfly-women,
elegant flight and synchronized swimming.
We've burrowed under the Jewelled Town,
they've laid their eggs in the Heavenly Woods
but its still not certain which side is winning.
King Cockroach nibbles at the Queen's best chrysalis,
jelly-fish feelers entangling the bee's knees.
Deathwatch Dan searchs in the shadows for the skeleton keys
that will open the doors to the surface.
In the Honeycomb of Delight
a princess weeps for her uncovered Night,
a cavalcade of earwigs nearly reaching the day,
but not quite...
Stag Man and Moth Muse play the poison python blues,
Mad Marvin Millipede twitching spasmodically
in his blue suede shoes.
Someone has shattered the Astro-dome,
the Dog Star gnashes its teeth and foams.
In a glass bubble on Professor Homunculus's mantlepiece
Leviathan dreams he's back beneath Jerusalem,
Jonah slips out of Auschwitz for a fish-supper.
The Preident of the New World Government
is on his pink telephone again talking
to the new Ayatollah and his Mother.
Midnight creepers and clandestine sleepers:
they're painting the White House Taliban black
to appeal to a wider minority.
Freedom of speech is almost in reach
but fails to get a full majority
after a large red fox has a hysterectomy.
In the Taj Mahal a woman is weeping,
in the Houses of Parliament the Speaker is creaking;
Big Ben is chiming but the Poet Laureate is no longer rhyming.
In an atomic teapot on Professor Homunculus's mantlepiece
something is brewing,
on the seventh level of the old iron fire-escape
Cerebus is chewing something vaguely familiar:
a Statue of Liberty doll,
a professional hit-man's moll,
a luminous Pope,
a bar of white soap,
a length of old rope
long enough to hang the world...
Bonus verse.
"It is no longer politically correct to be politically correct"
They left the city to the policemen and the prowling cats
in the hope that they would eviscerate and devour each other
but in the grey light of dawn they shook hands amicably
and proceeded to round up all the usual suspects.
elegant flight and synchronized swimming.
We've burrowed under the Jewelled Town,
they've laid their eggs in the Heavenly Woods
but its still not certain which side is winning.
King Cockroach nibbles at the Queen's best chrysalis,
jelly-fish feelers entangling the bee's knees.
Deathwatch Dan searchs in the shadows for the skeleton keys
that will open the doors to the surface.
In the Honeycomb of Delight
a princess weeps for her uncovered Night,
a cavalcade of earwigs nearly reaching the day,
but not quite...
Stag Man and Moth Muse play the poison python blues,
Mad Marvin Millipede twitching spasmodically
in his blue suede shoes.
Someone has shattered the Astro-dome,
the Dog Star gnashes its teeth and foams.
In a glass bubble on Professor Homunculus's mantlepiece
Leviathan dreams he's back beneath Jerusalem,
Jonah slips out of Auschwitz for a fish-supper.
The Preident of the New World Government
is on his pink telephone again talking
to the new Ayatollah and his Mother.
Midnight creepers and clandestine sleepers:
they're painting the White House Taliban black
to appeal to a wider minority.
Freedom of speech is almost in reach
but fails to get a full majority
after a large red fox has a hysterectomy.
In the Taj Mahal a woman is weeping,
in the Houses of Parliament the Speaker is creaking;
Big Ben is chiming but the Poet Laureate is no longer rhyming.
In an atomic teapot on Professor Homunculus's mantlepiece
something is brewing,
on the seventh level of the old iron fire-escape
Cerebus is chewing something vaguely familiar:
a Statue of Liberty doll,
a professional hit-man's moll,
a luminous Pope,
a bar of white soap,
a length of old rope
long enough to hang the world...
Bonus verse.
"It is no longer politically correct to be politically correct"
They left the city to the policemen and the prowling cats
in the hope that they would eviscerate and devour each other
but in the grey light of dawn they shook hands amicably
and proceeded to round up all the usual suspects.
